Chocolate Maple Crunch
by mistspinner
Summary: "So," Gilbert said, sometime after Matthew had ordered his third ice cream, "what's up?"


Sorry for not working on any of my AUs lately - should be editing them and stuff, but instead I'm writing silly fics for writer challenges and stuff ^^;

But, erm, yeah, here's fluffy, sugary-sweet PruCan for you guys. Sorry it's not super well-written, but it's 5 am and I'm not especially coherent anymore.

* * *

"So," Gilbert said, sometime after Matthew had ordered his third ice cream, "what's up?"

"Hmm?"

"Oh, come _on," _Gilbert sighed, pulling a seat out and plopping down across Matthew, "don't _hmm _me. You've been here for three hours, just sitting here in this shitty-ass stall, staring into space like some emo poet boy and ordering enough ice cream to last a teenage girl several breakups, 'cept instead of being a good teen protagonist and eating it, you're just watching it all melt, and that _can't_ be right, since I know chocolate maple crunch is your favorite. So. What's up?"

"You know," Matthew said, turning his spoon over in his current bowl of ice cream, "there's also the chance that I'm a _smart _teen protagonist who happens to realize that gaining ten pounds isn't going to magically get my long-time crush to notice me?"

"Nah," Gilbert said, "that would mean _logic, _and half of these things are made by Disney Channel, so don't hold your breath. But. Back to the point. You just blew fifteen bucks on ice cream that you're not eating, so something's bothering you, am I right?"

For a while Matthew was quiet, playing with his spoon and his ice cream as he pointedly avoided Gilbert's gaze. And then, finally, he nodded, said a slow and hesitant, "kind of."

Gilbert waited.

"Actually, the ironic thing is that it _is _about prom – and no, it's not about girls, so don't even _start_ down that road."

"Hey, never said I was going to – know what happens when you assume, don't you?"

"Yes, but you _don't."_

Gilbert stuck his tongue out.

"_Mature."_

"Yeah, well," Gilbert said, shrugging easily, "can't be perfect at everything, you know. Wouldn't be fair. So," he said, leaning across the table, "since you don't seem all too keen on this whole prom business and it's apparently not about some girl (although, if it _was_, you know Francis would be more than happy to help, just hypothetically speaking, that's all), I'm assuming your brother's dragging you along?"

Matthew exhaled, and then nodded. "Yeah," he said, poking glumly at his ice cream. "Him and a bunch of his friends roped me into going."

"Aaah, ditch them – you're too cool for those losers, anyway."

"You think?"

"Well, _yeah _– wouldn't be saying so otherwise if I didn't, would I? Besides, prom's way over-rated – just an excuse for a bunch of tools to go around and make fools of themselves. Not worth the trouble, really."

"Yeah," Matthew said, smiling slightly, "I guess." He still didn't meet Gilbert's eyes, though.

"Mattie? Hey, Mattie, are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," Matthew said, smiling vaguely as he continued jabbing at his ice cream, "I'm fine, Gil. I'm fine. It's just…"

"Just what?"

"Just, well, I don't know, sometimes do you just feel, you know, _invisible?" _

Even as he asked the question, Matthew realized how absurd it was – invisible? Gilbert Beilschmidt? And in the same sentence? – but if Gilbert saw any paradox in the question, he didn't remark on it, merely nodded.

"Yeah, sometimes," he said, and, seeing Matthew's shock, added, "I mean not _often – _I'm too awesome for that, you know, just kind of fucking radiates off me, hard to get within a twenty foot radius of me without being blinded by it – but, yeah, once in a while; I mean, doesn't _everyone? _The trick, though, is to remember that it _is _about you – because you're simply too awesome to handle, am I right?"

"Yes, Gil. Of course."

"_Obviously._"

"Obviously."

They sat there a while, in quiet silence.

"But, yeah, anyway, that's the way to go about it," Gilbert said, "just be yourself and be awesome, and you won't need any of those other fuckers around. Anyways," he said, clearing his throat as he stood up, "sorry 'bout leaving you like this, but I better get to work – boss doesn't like me much already, and I don't think Opa'll be too pleased if I go through three jobs in four months, you know how he was when I lost the last one –"

"I know," Matthew said, smiling faintly as he waved to Gilbert over his ice cream. "Go back to work, now. And bring me another ice cream."

* * *

Oh, it wasn't bad advice, of course – was, once you took the expletives out, actually some pretty _good _advice, surprise of the century though that might be, and yes, it might have worked, probably would have worked in any other case, with any other person –

Only, the thing was, he wasn't any other person.

Matthew sighed, and watched the party go on around him.

It wasn't that he wanted to join them, of course; he'd never been much of a partier, had always preferred them watching from the sidelines instead of joining in. And that had been fine with him, really, had never bothered him too much before – he liked it, really, preferred it to the bustle and noise of keeping up conversation with a dozen people. It was fine. It was the way he was.

Except…

Except, well, it was just so _lonely _sometimes. And here, surrounded by Alfred and his friends and a million other people dancing and kissing and having fun, he couldn't help but think, couldn't help but feel just a bit, just a little –

"The _fuck _kind of party is this?"

Oh God no where had he come from and why did he have a megaphone.

Because (oh dear God oh dear God), there at the doors was Gilbert, dressed in a black tux and tie, wearing black shades and _actually _silhouetted against the doorway, as though this were indeed some Disney Channel teen movie and everyone was about to break into a synchronized dance number –

Matthew wasn't glad to see him, of course, because Gilbert was more always trouble and headaches than he was worth, always was always had been, and that teeny-tiny thump in his chest wasn't _actually _relief that he was going to be able to escape the solitude he had been suffering the past two hours.

Of course not. Not at all.

But since this _was _a school dance, and Gilbert had probably just a) snuck in without a ticket b) engaged in unseemly conduct that was likely to get him kicked out and c) managed to do _both _in front of a large audience of witnesses and authority figures, Matthew supposed someone ought to be responsible and pick up the pieces.

"Sorry – so sorry, terribly sorry," he muttered, pushing his way through the crowds toward Gilbert, "sorry, I think he must be drunk or something –"

"Hey, Mattie!" Gilbert said, waving across the crowd. "Hey, how's the party coming along – seems pretty boring to me, really, good thing I arrived, huh, I think this whole place needs some more awesome in here –"

"Gilbert, where did you – what are you – this is going to be another of those things you're going to explain off as just "being awesome," isn't it? Never mind," Matthew sighed, shaking his head as he started steering Gilbert off towards the door. "Sorry, guys," he said to the crowd, "I think my friend's drunk or something, I don't know what it is, but we'll be leaving now –"

"You've got friends that get _drunk _now_?"_

Gritting his teeth, Matthew concentrated on ignoring Alfred and getting out of the building as quickly as possible.

In the distance, though, he could hear his brother's voice - "wow, Mattie, that's like a big step – your first alcoholic friend? After that it's the stoner, and you don't _know _how fun those are…"

* * *

"So," Matthew said, once they had managed to stumble out of the building, "what, exactly, is this about?"

"Besides being –"

"Besides being awesome, I mean."

"Wow, thanks for stealing all my lines from me, Matt," Gilbert said, giving Matthew his best I'm-four-and-cute pout. "Great job there, being a friend and all."

"Gil, I'm _serious. _You could have gotten in trouble –_"_

"Oh, come _on, _they can't kick me out of a school I don't attend –"

"Gil. I _mean _it."

"Oh, _alright_," Gilbert said, scowling as he pulled his hand from Matthew's grip. "I knew you were going to be surrounded by a bunch of posers and shit, and you'd be pretty down because of all the losers you had for company, so I just decided to come in and make things a little less lonely and a little more awesome, okay? God, what's a guy have to do around here, announce everything he does before he does it in flashing yellow lights?"

In the dim light, he rolled his eyes at Matthew.

"Gil," Matthew said finally, when he managed to find his voice, "um. Well, while I think that was very nice of you to do, just please, well – just please don't do it again, okay? I mean, I know you don't really care about getting in trouble or anything, I do. And, well, I'd just feel really, _really _bad if you got into trouble with your dad over this. Just…well, please don't , okay?"

"Oh."

There was a long, uncomfortable silence after that.

"Sooo," Gilbert said, awkwardly picking at his shirt cuff, "those that mean the general awesomeness of the night kind of went down?"

Matthew thought about that a while. Thought about empty corners and lonely glances, whispered conversations and hearing snatches of other people's lives.

"…no," he finally decided. "Actually, the awesomeness level was pretty low beforehand, anyways. Although," he added, "the whole nearly-giving-me-a-heart-attack thing kind of took away from the awesomeness of being saved from being there another two hours."

"Oh, yeah - sorry about that, again. But," Gilbert said, grinning brightly as he turned to Matthew, "I bet I can make it up to you."

"Oh?" Matthew asked, smiling despite himself. "How?"

"Like this," Gilbert said, leaning forward and kissing Matthew on the lips.

It was neither a long kiss nor a forceful one, yet somehow it managed to take Matthew's breath nonetheless.

"Gil, what was – why did – what did – what was _that?"_

"A kiss," Gilbert said, and there was something like wariness in his voice. "You know, like they do at the end of shitty high school movies and stuff? Private moment under the stars or whatever?"

"O-oh."

"Yeah."

Matthew thought about that for a while. Gilbert watched, shoulders tense and eyes deliberately blank.

And then Matthew looked up, smiled and said, "okay."

_"Wha –"_

"I said okay," Matthew said, sighing indulgently as he took Gilbert's hand. "That's the right thing to say, isn't it? I mean, I guess it probably isn't the most romantic line ever, but that's how it ends, right? Kisses, confessions, and happy couples all around."

"I – I – wha - yeah, pretty much, isn't it?"

"Good," Matthew said, grinning as he started walking towards the parking lot, "because now we're going to live happily ever after and get ice cream. Chocolate maple crunch ice cream, actually, and with lots and lots of caramel sauce."


End file.
